Open Sesame

By: Hank Horne
(© 2018 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

HHorne@tickiestories.us

Chapter 9

On the way home, I briefed the guys on some of the ideas I had thought about to get Crystal Rainbow, LLC (Limited Liability Corporation) up and running.  “First, scouting for land to develop it on.  Then find lawyers to draw up the corporate charter and purchase the land.  Next, get some architects to lay out plans for constructing the several buildings involved in the project.  They’ll include a main house with extra quarters for household staff.  An all-male nightclub with hunky bartenders, show dancers and bar-backs, plus a diner upstairs with hunky servers and cooks.  A resort motel by the Gulf of Mexico or a lake, clothing optional, men only.  Farmland to grow fresh veggies and flowers, with a staff to work the gardens.  And landscapers to care for all the lawns.  Oh, and an apartment complex for all the staff to live in, a fitness center, rehearsal hall for dance practice. 

“What I want the four of us to do first is look through all the on-line sites for gorgeous, musclemen who really turn us on.  Then we’ll have Jamal and Arman find these guys and get some DNA from each, so they can be cloned to meet our standards for the total staff.  We’ll start out with well over a hundred fantastically hot guys from every part and every cultural background in the world.”  {Being clones, some may recognize their hosts as being among the hottest muscle hunks on the planet!}

“Okay, wrap your heads around that for a while,” I ended my dissertation.  “Any immediate questions?” 

Everyone was quiet, trying to grasp what I was saying.  After a while, Hassan asked, “You want us to be a part of this unbelievable fantasy?”

At the same time, Maji said, “!Belê”⁸ and I replied, “Definitely!”

Then I added, “You can bet your ever-lovin’ bippy, I do!  I think of you two as a part of us.”   More silence as we drove around Chevy Chase Circle into Maryland.

“What’s a ‘bippy’?” Dildar asked and I replied, “What you’re sitting on.”  It took him a bit to realize what I was talking about and we were home by that time.

We parked the car in the garage and went in through the kitchen.  The house was empty.  I led them into the office/library where we all took a seat.  We continued our conversation from the car.  I let them know they did not need to make any decision immediately. 

“We’ve got six months for you to decide, but you guys should know you have the support of the American Embassy in Bagdad, therefore our State Department and Maryland’s Senator Staunton.  The choice will be yours after you see some of the country, where we will be living and involved in the early preparations.  I will certainly respect whatever decision you two make.”

“I’ll support you all the way,” Maji interjected.  “So, think about it, talk it over with each other, and let us know sometime later what you’ve decided.”

“We’ve had a busy day so far, and I’m ready for some playtime and a nap.  I still haven’t adjusted to the time change,” I told everybody, then stood to go upstairs.  On the way up, I told the guys that Greta was preparing a ham for dinner, but she would also fix lamb chops for them.  “That way you can taste the ham – if you want to.  I’ve survived eating ham for the past thirty years, so I don’t think you’ll die from it.  It’s fully cooked; unlike hogs six thousand years ago, today hogs don’t eat garbage.  They are fed clean food, their feeding troughs are sanitized daily, and the meat is fully cooked.  You’re welcome to try it, or not.  Again no one here is trying to tell you what you can and cannot eat; you have free choice entirely.  I’m not going to try to hold Maji down and stuff food down his throat; I don’t think I would win that fight.”  {We all laughed.}

“Except maybe your tube-steak!” Dildar commented resulting in guffaws from Maji and Hassan.

Hassan and Dildar went into their room, undressed and crawled in bed.  They started out playing with each other’s joy-toy, then Dildar flipped around and engulfed Hassan’s with his throat, which left his own flopping in his lover’s face.  Hassan took the love handle down his throat also.  They experimented with every means of achieving the desired results; licking up and down, sucking on the balls, licking under the balls, until they reverted to sucking up and down the shaft, going deeper with each downward thrust.  It didn’t take long for the two young studs to reach the point of no return.  One last time, Dildar went all the way to base as the sweet-salty taste invaded his throat; he pulled up until only the head was in his mouth and swallowed as fast as he could.  The first volley to hit his throat sent spasms through his body and he started pumping volumes of cum into his one-and-only’s mouth.  Hassan also swallowed as fast as he could, but some ran down his chin.  They maintained their positions, sucking the last drop from the withering, monster cock they each had pumped dry.

Dildar turned around, leaned into Hassan so they could share the remains left on their tongues.  They dropped off to sleep in each other’s arms, and not a care in the world.  

Grant and Majid shared a similar experience in their room next door.  They wrapped their legs around each other’s head, putting each in a leg scissors, forcing his manhood into a waiting orifice.  Using their hands, they separated the other’s rear entrance to the rosebud flower.  Slight rubbing with their fingers relaxed the tightly held opening, until slowly fingers made their way through for an exam not medically induced.  Farther and farther into the cavity they pressed their advantage, until they reached the Walnut of Nirvana.  A light touch produced the related urge until neither could maintain control.  A blast of liquid shot from their tightened ball-sacks, filling the waiting repository.  Soon they, too, were wrapped in muscular arms, sleeping the sleep of the sated.

About 6:00 p.m., Grant’s phone beeped, he had a message: ‘Do you want your dinner hot or cold?’  He texted back: ‘Hot!  How long?’   Reply: ‘30 min’   Reply: ‘We’ll be there’

Grant and Majid hopped out of bed.  Grant headed for the shower; Majid slipped on some shorts and knocked on Dildar and Hassan’s door.  “Get your asses showered and ready for dinner – thirty minutes.”

“On it,” was the reply from inside the room.

Right on time all the men were freshened and looking hot in polo shirts and khakis with loafers.  When they got to the dining room, they got a surprise – another smokin’ young man was carrying food from the kitchen. 

“Robbie!” Grant exclaimed.  “It’s great to see you!”  Grant welcomed him with a handshake and a tight bear hug, which Robbie returned.  “Robbie, I want you to meet some very special friends from Iraq.  This is my cameraman, Majid Mustafa {spelled and then the sign which Greta created}; this little guy, if you can call him little, is Majid’s cousin, Dildar Fadel; and this is Dildar’s best friend, Hassan Hassan, same first and last name which is a tradition among many Arab families for the eldest son.  Guys, this is Greta’s high school and college friend, Robbie Paul.” 

Greta signed, and Grant interpreted aloud, “Not only friend, he is my fiancé.  We will marry next year.”   Greta turned her diamond ring around, so everyone noticed the huge square diamond with a square sapphire and ruby, their birthstones, on either side.

Grant grinned real big and grabbed his sister in a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, then shook hands and gave Robbie another big hug.  The other guys gave Robbie a handshake and Greta a kiss on the cheek also. 

“No wonder this is a celebration dinner!  Any champagne on ice?”  Grant asked Greta, who grinned and nodded.  He went into the kitchen and found everything they needed on the serving cart, an antique that their Great-Aunt Phoebe referred to as a ‘Tea Cart.’  “Party time!” he shouted as he came through the swinging door.  Everyone toasted the future bride and groom, sat down to dinner, which Greta and Robbie brought to the table.  

The three Iraqi guys tried a taste of the ham, which had a brown sugar and apple sauce glaze.  They all loved it.  Once they got over the trepidation of eating forbidden meat, they had a slice of it along with their lamb chop.  During the dinner conversation, I suggested a buffet dinner on either Friday or Saturday night after Thanksgiving to celebrate the newly engaged couple.  Robbie could invite his college wrestling buddies and Greta would invite her college friends, and any other family and friends they would like to.  They would need to give me email addresses, so I could send Evites on the computer.  I would arrange for the Club, next door, to cater the event using our family recipes for various types of Thanksgiving type food.  Deep fried turkey sliced, cornbread dressing using Grandma Caroline’s recipe, Mama’s cranberry congealed salad, Greta’s ham recipe, and the Club’s ‘extra hearty’ pumpkin pies.  We’d serve from the dining room and eat at card tables in the living room, den and office.  Cocktails at 6:00 and dinner at 7:00 Thanksgiving weekend.  Greta and Robbie loved the idea; they would get the email list this coming week, and we would get to meet Robbie’s family and they us.

Dinner was over, we were stuffed like a Tom Turkey, and we got the leftovers put in the fridge and the dishwasher started.  Greta and Robbie went back to her cottage, and my guys settled in the den to recuperate and have an after-dinner drink. It seems my guys are becoming acclimated to a different way of life from what they were used to in Iraq.  They’re beginning to accept that pork is not as unclean as it was in Old Testament days, nor is male-male sex an automatic death sentence, and moderate alcohol has some beneficial properties.  

The next morning, I called my agent to let him know I was not renewing my contract at GNN and was sending him a year’s commission based on the new contract’s terms.  Then Majid called his agent and gave him the same information.

After that, we all headed for a couple of the big banks to open accounts with each of them.  Majid and I both took $100,000.00 to J.P. Morgan-Chase and opened accounts there.  Then we went over to Citibank and opened accounts for the same amount.  My parents had a joint account at the old Bank of Bethesda which
Bank of America bought out.  Greta and I had our first savings accounts at Bank of Bethesda.  So, we went into the bank and talked with one of the officers whom I knew.  I transferred twenty thousand from my personal account to open accounts for Dildar and Hassan.  

From there we drove down Wisconsin Avenue to the Maryland DMV and picked up the Driver’s Handbook and information about getting a driver’s license for the three Iraqis.  A little farther down Wisconsin, a couple of blocks from Tenley Circle, is a Best Buy where we picked out four identical laptops, extra memory, and all the bells and whistles that one can get on a laptop.  Their Geeks told us we could come back in a couple of days and they would be ready with all the requirements downloaded.

We were getting hungry, so we walked the block to Subway for them to experience another American type of food.   After lunch, we went home.  The guys started reading their driving manual and Maji and I talked about plans for the Crystal Rainbow project. 

We called Jamal and Arman to join us in the office so that we were clear among all of us as to what to expect.   As their ‘gaydar’ is so much better than ours, we needed them in on the plans from the start.  They appeared in all their jinn glory, bare torso with armbands around their biceps, and erections emphasized in the chiffon pants.  I guess they wanted our attention and appreciation!  I ignored their appearance and began what I wanted to say.

“The reason for this meeting is to discuss my fantasy of the foreseeable future.  I would like to acquire approximately one hundred acres of land in the south part of the United States that is predominately flatland beside a large body of water.  Having it next to the Gulf of Mexico may not be feasible, so a large lake would be the next best thing.  I would like for it to be near a very large metropolitan city. Perhaps Atlanta, Nashville, Memphis, Dallas-Fort Worth – a city with a large gay population that would be available to the services we would provide on what I’m calling, at the moment, Crystal Rainbow Ranch.  {Eventually, we dropped the ‘Ranch’ part.}

“There would be six distinct parts to the ranch.  The main house for Maji and me, and a dozen staff members to oversee all the areas of the project.  A private club with a restaurant upstairs and a private basement for staff use. The club would have go-go dancers to entertain paying club members.  There would be a studio for Maji to make gay-themed videos.  By the water would be a gay resort with all the amenities one would want on a vacation get-away. Swimming, dining, fitness, orgy room.  There would be farmland for fresh vegetables year-round and flowers for our decoration year-round. This group would also be responsible for grounds maintenance of the full complex.

“And the largest area would be the apartments for all of the employees.  The dancers, bar and restaurant staff would be located closest to their work, and there would be a back drive to the club, away from the main entrance.  The horticulturists would reside in the area closest to the gardens.  The resort staff would have an area nearest the resort.  The house staff would have a dormitory on the castle grounds.

“You’re wondering how we would get all the staff of qualified workers.  That’s where we start as soon as we get the computers.  Maji, you, Dildar, Hassan and I will look through all the on-line photos of the hottest and best-looking physique models on the web.  We’ll each take an ethnic background and go through pictures of hot studs from that ethnic group to pick the ones who turn us on the most.  Print screen of each prospect so we can find them again and how our devious jinn can find them.  The big guys will go after one muscle hunk each at a time, get a sample of DNA from them and clone them for our – uh – male harem.”

Maji was sitting there with his mouth agape.  Even Jamal and Arman looked from me to each other several times, with the smiles on their faces getting bigger each time.  “Jamal, Arman, if Majid will agree with what I’m about to say, you two should really enjoy this part of the project.  IF – that’s a big ‘I’ and a big ‘F’ – a big IF – IF you need to work together to get the DNA from a host hunk, it’s fine with me.  You might need to show yourselves to someone, which would be okay with me too – IF you disguise yourselves by changing your hair style, or color, or lighten or darken your skin tone; grow a full beard, get a temporary tattoo.  Do you understand what I’m talking about? Maji, is that acceptable to you?”

Majid nodded his head as he replied, “It’s cool with me, IF, as you said, it’s necessary!”       

“We understand!” the jinn said together.

“We don’t want you two pranksters going around creating havoc.  Use your best judgement, not just what you’d have fun doing.  Will you do that for us?”

Maji and I looked at our jinni in the eyes for a response.

“Yes, Master.  We will obey your orders and your wishes.”

“And if there is a question about what to do, ask us before you do it.”

“Yes, Master!”

“Any questions?”

“Yes, Masters, one question,” Arman said.

“Can we suck you off now?” Jamal asked.

“Only if you can beat us on the mats,” I answered them.

In the next damned second, all four of us were naked on the mats and the jinn were in a wrestling pose, with full erections leading the way. 

“We’re ready to wrestle when you are, Master,” our two unnatural super studs said as they moved toward us.

“Defend yourself,” Majid told Arman.

The two approached us, picked us up and put us on our backs.  Then they spread our legs and dropped to their outstretched hands and began doing push-ups over us, keeping our growing cocks deep in their mouths.  They began rolling their tongues over our shlongs, then after a while they paused as they held us deep in their throats.  At this time, they moved their tongues to our balls, lathing them all over and pulling each into his mouth, taking both balls and the cock to manipulate them in the vast cavern that was their mouth.  Their movements were so coordinated, it was like they had rehearsed the routine a thousand times, or maybe they were using telepathy to work our danglers every way possible.  Then   when I thought I couldn’t hold back any longer, Jamal pulled off my cock, leaving the balls floating on his tongue as it worked its way down to my perineum.  I was about to go crazy. 

I looked over at Maji and he was pumping Arman’s mouth for all he was worth!  His legs were locked around the jinni’s head while his hands had hands-full of hair forcing the head up and down as his cock was pumping in and out.  The scene playing out next to me sent me over the edge and I grabbed Jamal’s head, holding it in place with my hands and legs as I unloaded all over the big guy’s face with uncontrolled fountains of cum on his eyelids, his forehead, in his hair, even up his nostrils.  His tongue reached all the way to my hole and was fucking it as I was drying up from the explosion.

Maji saw my blasts spreading all over Jamal and he froze with his monster cyclops crammed down Arman’s throat as far as it would go, unloading what might have been unbelievable amounts of cum down the big man’s gullet.  I looked at Arman and could have sworn I saw tears in his eyes. 

Nah!                Not possible.              Could it be?

Oh, man!  What an experience!  The jinn lay down beside us, holding us in their arms and smothering us with kisses.  Somehow, both of them smelled beautifully fresh, as if they had just stepped out of the shower.  There was no indication of any exertion visible anywhere on them.  Maji and I were exhausted and the next thing we knew, we were in our bed and apparently had had showers.   We kissed and slept the sleep of incredibly satisfying orgasms.

To be continued... 

⁸ I would!

Posted: 10/05/18